The blonde
by micbb
Summary: In which John meet's Sherlock's mother. Oneshot.


**John meets Rose.  
After destroying the daleks, the metacrisis died when his mind burned for the knowledge. 10 never regenerated to 11, and Rose stayed with The Doctor. **

John Watson entered the living space of his shared flat, sitting down on his chair with a sigh. It was well past 8PM and he'd only just been able to leave work. It had been a day of coughs and colds and people expecting him to cure them. He was glad it was over.

He was brought out of his peaceful reverie by and ungodly whooshing noise that echoed throughout the flat. Turning his head to find the source of the noise, he saw what looked like flashing lights the crack under Sherlock's bedroom door. Another experiment, he realized. The noise didn't last too long, and he managed to ignore it and return to his thoughts.

As he reached over to grab a book he'd left next to his chair, Sherlock's bedroom door opened and an unfamiliar head popped out, searching the room before landing on John.

It was a blonde woman, quite young, possibly in her early twenties. She had bright hazel eyes and a rather wide mouth, but John could tell she was pretty. He stuttered in shock at seeing a woman in Sherlock's room.

What was going on?

"Hi." The blonde said, only her head visible between the wall and the door. "Is Sherlock 'ere?" She smiled brightly at John, who stared at her in shock.

"Um…no." John managed to get out. What was she doing in his room if he wasn't even home?

The smile dropped. "Darn." The head retreated and the door closed. As John tried to get his bearings, the horrible whooshing sound made him plug his ears. For a few moments he simply sat, staring at the door to Sherlock's room, half expecting the blonde to pop her head out again.

She didn't.

When he asked Sherlock about it later, the taller man sighed and told John to forget about it.

* * *

The second time he saw her, she was running.

It had been 5 months since the last time. In all honesty, he'd mostly forgotten about her.

At first, he though she was running to him, but then she ran past, bumping into his shoulder and stumbling.

"Sorry!" She called, giving him a wave and an apologetic look. She'd been about to take off again, but he spoke before she could.

"Have we met?" He asked her, though there was no doubt in his mind who this girl was.

The blonde walked closer, until she was only three feet away, and pinched her eyebrows together, examining him closely. "Who are you?" She asked.

"John. I think I met you at my place. Do you know Sherlock?" He asked her. She seemed to think for a second, her lips pulling to one side as she tried to think, before she shook her head.

He looked at her, a frown of confusion on his face. Just as he was about to remind her of their encounter, something caught her attention behind her. He turned to see what had distracted her and found a tall, skinny man in a pin-stripped brown suit and…trainers? His hair was as wild as his wide eyes, and he was beckoning to someone, presumably the young blonde in front of him.

He turned back to the girl, who was now smiling widely. "See you, John." She said before she took off toward the man, reaching him quickly and taking his outstretched hand. John watched them run until he could no longer see the pair.

He pondered on her last words for days. "See you," she'd said. What did that mean?

* * *

The third time, this time three months since the last, he didn't speak to her at all. From a distance, he saw her with the man with the suit again. They were standing on the sidewalk, facing each other, each holding an ice cream cone. He watched the man dab his finger into his cone and smear it on the blonde's nose, making her eyes widen in surprise and laugh. He smiled when she smiled.

* * *

The fourth time, this time only four days since the last, he did a double take.

It was obviously the same girl, though her hair was significantly longer (hair extensions?) and she somehow looked younger, she was walking hand in hand with a man, but it wasn't pin stripes.

The man holding her hand was still tall, built strong with short hair, like a soldier. He had a rather large nose and ears, wore a beaten leather jacket, black trousers, and what looked like heavy black work boots.

Hadn't she just been with the other man? Perhaps she had a twin.

The man seemed to catch his eye marched toward his, pulling along the girl who clung to his arm. She had a smile on her face and mirth in her eyes.

"S'excuse me. What day is it?" The man asked with a cheerful voice.

John blinked. "Um, Monday. April 12."

"Right. Fantastic." The man nodded, giving the blonde a smile before turning back to John. "And what year?"

John frowned at the man. The blonde cut it, "'e's havin' some memory troubles. Doesn't believe me when I tell 'im the date. Would you mind?" She asked sweetly. The man frowned, opening his mouth to say something, but she slapped his arm and his mouth closed.

John eyed the pair. "Um, sure, mate. It's 2014."

"Thanks." The blonde said, leading the man away.

John frowned as he watched them leave.

When he got home that evening, he planned to tell Sherlock about the strange woman, but found his friend lying on the couch, apparently in deep thought, and knew there was no way Sherlock would answer him.

* * *

Sherlock stopped dead when he saw John sitting in his chair. "John. I thought you'd be at work."

"No more patients today." It had been six months since John had seen the blonde, and he was beginning to think he'd simply gone crazy and imaged the whole thing.

"Oh." Sherlock seemed put out. "John I'm sorry. I thought you'd be at work, so I didn't warn you."

John frowned at his flatmate. "About what?"

Sherlock sighed, sitting in his chair. "There's no time for you to leave. They'll be here any minute."

John was started to get nervous. "Who will be here?"

Sherlock sighed again. "My parents." He said glumly.

John stared at Sherlock for a few minutes before he burst out laughing.

They sat for only a few moments before hearing a knock at the door. John heart Mrs. Hudson bustle over to the door, muttering to herself. When the door opened, he heard her cry of excitement and two women greeting, which he assumed were Mrs. Hudson and Sherlock's mother.

He heard two pairs of feet walking up the step and the door opened.

John's jaw dropped.

The first person to walk through the door was a very familiar blonde with a wide smile. Her eyes searched for a moment before landing on Sherlock, and she rushed toward him, throwing herself into his arms. Sherlock caught her rolling his eyes when she wouldn't be able to see. "Mother," he mumbled.

The blonde pulled away and slapped Sherlock's arm. "You're worse than your brother! At least he tells us if he has some free time to talk."

"I'm sure," Sherlock replied sarcastically.

The tall, messy-haired, suited man, who John also recognized, smiled and stuck out his hand, which Sherlock took and shook. "Father."

"I'm sorry, what?" John blurted out, and three pairs of eyes turned to look at him. He saw recognition in the blonde's eyes.

"John! It is John, right?" She smiled brightly at him. He nodded dumbly. "I'm Rose, and this is The Doctor." She held out her hand to the tall man, who smiled at her and took her hand, giving it a kiss (and making her blush) before letting the meshed fingers hand between them. "We're Sherlock and Mycroft's parents."

The Doctor reached out with the hand that wasn't holding Rose's for John to shake. "John. It's good to finally meet you. I go by John, sometimes. Although, I go by Smith, not Watson. John Smith, that is."

Sherlock shot Rose a look, "Mycroft's been telling you about John, then."

" 'Course." Rose said, still smiling. "Bu' I've met John a few times, myself! 'ow long 'as it been for you, John?"

"Um…what?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "John, The Doctor is an alien from a planet called Gallifrey. He has a time-and-space ship that he lives on. Rose used to be human but after a significant amount of exposure to the Time Vortex she no longer follows the rules of linear time, ergo she does not age. They're my parents."

John's mouth hung open. "_What?" _

Rose rubbed John's arm reassuringly. "S'all right, John." She turned her attention to Sherlock. "Should we 'ave a cuppa on the TARDIS, then?"

"I suppose." Sherlock rolled his eyes. The Doctor shot him a glare.

Rose smiled at John. "Would you like to come?"


End file.
